


Messes

by emma_enchanted



Category: Renegades - Marissa Meyer
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nova's just got a lot going on and she gets in her own head so, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_enchanted/pseuds/emma_enchanted
Summary: Set before Nova visits Adrian in Archenemies-- Nova and Callum clean out the Anarchist corner of the vault.
Relationships: Nova Artino & Callum Treadwell
Kudos: 14





	Messes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a content swap, but I'm really proud of how it turned out so I'm posting it here too! The timeline doesn't quite check out, but we're just going to ignore that. :)

Nova was bored.

She was used to boredom. She’d become a master of evading it.

But standing at the check-out desk for hours on end, with nothing to keep her occupied, was beginning to eat away at her brain. And knowing that Callum and Tina were both working elsewhere in the department, she didn’t dare attempt to snoop around.

She was just beginning to see how someone could fall asleep on the job when she heard someone approaching behind her.

Whipping around, she saw Callum beaming jovially as always.

“Hey, remember how I said we should fix the Anarchist artifact mess in the back?” he began. “Wanna tackle it now?”

Normally, she would have made up some flimsy excuse. Spending all that time around the belongings that she had so many memories of, around another person who was too observant for his own good? Not exactly the safest activity.

But, being as bored as she was, with another three hours left in her shift…

“Sure.”

“Great!” Callum exclaimed. “Come on.”

She followed him into the vault, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t give herself away. This was nothing compared to anything else. As long as she didn’t let her guard down, she’d be fine.

The Anarchist pile covered a corner of the room it was in. It truly was a mess, something that Nova had almost forgotten completely.

She let out a low whistle. “That sure is a lot.”

“Yep,” Callum agreed. “But we probably won’t need to keep all of it. Most of it seems to be clothes. We just need to make sure there’s nothing prodigious or dangerous buried in here.”

“Should I get Tina?”

“No, she’s busy handling Inertia’s Shield— it came back with a nick in it and she’s been trying to fix it.”

Nova’s shoulders sagged. At least if Tina had been there, she wouldn’t arouse suspicion by knowing when a shoe was really just a shoe. She was ninety-five percent sure that there had never been any prodigious artifacts with them in the tunnels— excepting Ace’s helmet.

“You start on that end—“ Callum pointed to the leftmost edge— “and I’ll start on the other?”

“Okay,” Nova replied. She headed to the designated corner, which seemed to be full of Ingrid’s old paraphernalia— some clothes, a dizzying array of armbands, and a whole lot of random junk that Nova was pretty sure she’d collected during the Age of Anarchy.

Really, the correct word was _stolen_ , but at that time that was the only way anyone got anything.

Callum began digging in right away. “Ugh,” she heard him groan. “Did we really need this to come through here?” She looked up to see him holding Leroy’s bathrobe with two fingers.

Nova smirked, not because of Callum’s remark, but because Leroy would have a fit if he saw anyone touching his bathrobe. “Not unless it protects the wearer from projectiles through some magical ability.”

Callum gave it a once-over. “Probably not. That would be awesome, though.” He threw it off to the side. “Let’s make that the pile for harmless stuff.”

Nova nodded, then turned back to her task. Her stomach churned at the thought of poking through Ingrid’s things. But she steeled herself and began throwing denim jeans and torn cotton shirts to the side, piling them up on top of the bathrobe.

———

“Let’s see what’s in here… argh!”

Nova turned to see Honey’s wardrobe flung wide open, her belongings spread all over the floor where Callum had been. She rolled her eyes and picked her way over.

“Thanks,” he spluttered as she helped him up. “I guess Queen Bee doesn’t have much of a mind for organization.”

Nova smiled and laughed tightly, but really she knew it was just that Honey made a point to wear as many outfits in a day as possible and didn’t bother to put everything back the way it was. Whenever Nova had asked why, she’d only strike a pose in whatever extravagant garment she happened to be wearing and say “Why not?”

Callum began digging through the mounds of clothing that had previously been eating him alive, looking impossibly fascinated with every article.

“When do you think she would have worn this?” he asked aloud, holding up a full-length, ballgown-style dress that was covered in purple sequins from top to bottom.

Nova shook her head, relieved she’d never really understood Honey’s clothing choices. “I have no idea. Doesn’t seem like the most practical choice.”

“True, but Queen Bee isn’t about practical. She was known for being the Flashy Anarchist.”

Nova nodded and said nothing. Too much conversation about the Anarchists, her family, was not how she’d envisioned getting caught. Luckily, Callum seemed to take it as the end of that particular discussion.

Nova went through lots of things she recognized, including her own clothes. Her fingers itched to tuck a few pieces away and take them with her— they were hers, after all, so it wouldn’t be stealing so much as it would be returning— but she knew that would be suspicious.

Then there were some things she’d forgotten about, like the basket of cat toys they’d scrounged up when Winston had adopted a stray cat. It had only stuck around for a few months, and had never once played with the toys, but it had been nice while it lasted. She felt a pang in her chest. How had she forgotten that?

———

“So are you and Sketch, like… a thing?”

Nova started, partly because of the question, but partly because she found herself welcoming the sound of Callum’s voice. “What makes you think that?”

“Okay, well maybe not a _thing_ , but you’re clearly interested. The two times he’s come in here, you were always trying to look so fascinated by everything he says.”

 _So Honey’s tactics do work; Adrian’s either being a doof or he’s just really disinterested._ Neither option was particularly encouraging. “If I was, what should I do instead?”

Callum turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “How would I know?”

Nova shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re a guy, I guess. What do you find attractive? Or… endearing?”

He stopped his work and pondered. “I don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it before.”

On the outside she nodded with an expression she hoped was infused with understanding, but internally, she was frowning. She didn’t want to hear about Callum’s personal life, especially since…

Since she was beginning to like him. Even after seeing his childishly optimistic view of the world, even after he infiltrated her mind and made her agree, even after she’d shaken it off and reminded herself what she was truly doing there. She still thought he was a good person, and she still felt a vague desire to talk to him, despite how simultaneously annoying he could be.

Was that all friendship was? Just wanting to talk to someone?

“I’m not that interested in relationships right now. Not that there aren’t cute people walking around, it’s just that I don’t want to pursue anything. I’m honestly occupied enough as it is.”

“That’s good,” Nova replied in the cheeriest tone she could manage. “I mean, you seem to know what you want right now.”

Callum shrugged. “Meh. Not completely. I don’t have to know right now, though, I have plenty of time to figure it out.”

Nova nodded again, having no other response to such a sage statement. It was just as well. She didn’t know how to have a normal conversation anyway.

———

“How did you discover your power?”

The thing that shocked Nova most was that she was the one asking. There was no reason to; it wasn’t going to help her cause either way. She was just… curious. She wanted to know his story.

Callum was thinking the question over. “I think it happened when I was a kid, a lot. After the Age of Anarchy, anyway, when it was okay to go outside again. I was a really enthusiastic kid and I just unconsciously spread that to everyone else. I thought it was just contagious joy until I realized I could do it intentionally.” He looked up at her expectantly. “You?”

She froze. Did she want to tell Callum the story? It didn’t make sense to. But she didn’t want to leave him hanging, either.

“I just… stopped sleeping. Not long after–” she gulped. Did she really want to say this out loud? “Not long after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry,” Callum said. She turned to see that he was looking at her with genuine sadness, but not pity.

It made her feel warm inside, that someone could understand the story from its bare minimum and not pity her.

She smiled back at him weakly, but as sincere as she could make it. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago and… I’ve done a lot since then. The extra hours come in handy.”

———

Soon they’d reached the back corner of the room. Everything was sorted into two piles: potential prodigious or dangerous artifacts (two or three items, most of which Nova knew were nothing) and general household objects (a very large pile nearly as tall as Nova herself). There was only one thing hidden in the back, and it was—

“One of Nightmare’s throwing stars?”

Callum was staring at it with excitement, carefully inspecting it but not daring to touch it.

Nova shivered. She longed to pocket it, to keep the Renegades away from her work, but she knew someone would notice if it went missing, and that someone would probably be Callum.

“This definitely goes in the dangerous pile,” Callum declared to Nova.

Nova cleared her throat. “Are you sure?” she said. “It doesn’t seem all that special. Just a particular structure.”

“Maybe not, but Nightmare can do some real damage with them. Better to be safe than sorry.” He gingerly picked it up between two fingers and carried it over to the smaller pile.

“I guess that’s it, then,” he said with a sigh.

Nova slipped her hands in her pockets, feeling awkward. “Guess so.”

“Hey,” Callum said, placing a hand on her shoulder. If he noticed her tense up, he didn’t show it.

“This was a lot of fun. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

Nova was lost for words. Because truthfully, it had been. It had been nice to talk to someone without strings attached, even if she was lying half the time. Or maybe just enough of it had been the truth.

What a mess it was.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m really glad we’re friends, too.”


End file.
